Just had Margaret on the phone in tears. My Dad's getting worse according to her. The place was apparently filthy and it looks like at some point or another Dad's fallen into the wardrobe as the door was all messed up and so was Dad's elbow. Now I feel guilty as hell for not going to see him. I last went on my birthday which is just not good enough. It's not as if I'm doing anything at weekends these days so why I haven't gone to see him I don't know.
Anyways, I'm going on Tuesday.
After that, every Sunday. It was going to be Monday but if I'm only doing 3 days a week at Social Services then I'll need to teach for 2 days to keep my bank balance healthy.
Oh yeah, I start at Social Services on the 20th Sept. Which means I need to hand my notice in on Monday. Which means I need to find a working printer over the weekend (I can use my ex-housemate's I'm sure). So I'm scared about that too. But I'll be fine, I'm sure.
I really should've gone to see my Dad.
I'm so unbelieveably selfish.